


Oh May How Small You Are/ All the Better To Love You My Dear

by lover_of_blue_roses



Category: Help! (1965), The Beatles (Band)
Genre: M/M, Macro/Micro, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, in the second chapter it's john that's small, inappropriate use of an audio jack, john having his wicked way with paul, tiny!John, tiny!paul
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-17
Updated: 2020-03-24
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:27:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23181730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lover_of_blue_roses/pseuds/lover_of_blue_roses
Summary: Paul finds himself tiny and John, well, he finds that Paul is helpless to do anything but to take it.
Relationships: John Lennon/Paul McCartney
Comments: 12
Kudos: 80





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> someone told me they were 'mislead' about my previous small!paul because what i meant was paul having a small dick not being a small person. so im 'terribly' sorry about that, so this is my apology

When the cult members ran out the door only to be followed by those two scientist fellows, they were left without Ahme, they took a moment to assess their surroundings, their windows bashed open, their house a mess, torn apart and splattered with paint. "Well, we can't stay here any longer," John noted.

"A hotel you reckon'?" George replied just as casually, their lives had certainly been odd ever since Eppy had made them famous.

"What about Paul?" Ringo asked as dripped red onto their fine flooring, he didn't even know if it was better to try and shower it off first or to just change clothes.

Their gazes were brought down to Paul's clothing. That's where they saw him naked but for the gum wrapper, splashing about as he tried to get out an ashtray that had been as much a victim of the red paint as Ringo.

"Well what are we going to do about that, can't have a bassist smaller than his picks," John questioned as he patted down Paul's suit. John certainly wasn't responsible enough to have one but ah- a cotton handkerchief in one of Paul's pockets, it didn't even look used. He tossed it down to Paul who couldn't really catch it, not because it had become to heavy for him but because it was too large and cumbersome for his tiny arms. Still he wrapped it about himself like a toga. 

"I'm not that small," Paul complained as he measured himself out against the discarded wrapper. No he was a little bigger but not by much. 

"What did Ahme say again?" Ringo questioned as he worked his fingers around the tight grip of the ring. 

"By sweating or something to get it out?" George tried.

"Secretions," Paul informed only to be interrupted by John that was picking him up rather indelicately, "Ow- hey watch it!"

"So if he has to sweat it out, do we need like a sauna?" Ringo started to unbutton his shirt, anything really would be better than continuing to let the paint start to dry and crack on his skin. 

"Where do you think we're gonna get a sauna in the middle of the night in London?" John pointed out as he cupped his palm for Paul to sit. Paul tried to stand but found that a person's hold was too unsteady.

"Can't I just sleep it off?" Paul tried, concerned this smaller voice would make him easier to overlook.

"How long might that take?" George complained.

"We could always go to Switzerland, heard they got lots of saunas in their ski resorts," Ringo offered as pragmatic as ever. 

"I'd fancy a little ski vacation," John agreed as he slipped his miniature friend in his breast pocket.

Paul and George wanted to groan at the suggestion and yet, why not, that seemed as plausible as anything else- although, "Can it be Austria? It's so hard to get a Swiss visa," Paul piped up. 

John just shook his head, swishing his moptop about, at the fact that Paul bothered to learn or remember such thing. 

With their bags packed and Ringo in something new and paint free, they went to crash a night at a hotel before taking the first flight to Austria, having the hotel call ahead to get them booked and everything.

Paul might have hoped to grow back to his original size but instead he awoke to find himself still tiny in a cordoned off corner of the room. Originally they were going to let him sleep on the nightstand in the makeshift doll's bed Ringo had made but then they were concerned that if he were to regain his size during the night he'd fall off and so they had placed him somewhere he had enough space for his full body to reform and yet where they wouldn't accidentally step on him if they woke up to go to the loo and forgot what had happened. 

Now they were getting settled in the resort, they had been able to spring for two double rooms here and John was setting Paul up while Ringo and George went to go rent their ski gear. 

Which left Paul and John really alone for the first time since he'd shrunk. "What's it like being tiny, it looks pretty interesting."

"It's not that grand," Paul answered honestly, "Mostly cause I can't walk anywhere on my own, can't fetch food, nothing, gotta depend on you."

John eyes seemed to glint almost dangerously and Paul had known his friend long enough to know whatever he'd just gotten into John's head couldn't be great for him. "Yeah, yeah, gotta *de pend* on me," John dragged out the syllables, "At my mercy, really." Oh yeah, nothing good could come of this. 

John came over to where Paul was set up on the desk, placing his hands ominously on the surface on either side of where Paul stood. "Bodily secretions- that's what she said right? Any bodily secretions?" He grabbed Paul by the torso and removed his toga effortlessly as it had no clasps.

"John!" Paul cried, helplessly kicking out as John manipulated his hand to spread Paul's legs. "What are you doing?" He tried to cover himself with his hands but John effortlessly batted them away, pinning them between two fingers. Paul thrashed about as he could feel his skin heat against John's palm.

"Calm down, I'm not gonna hurt you, promise to be gentle," it's possibly suppose to be teasing, eluding the birds they've been with but all Paul can do is think of it as honesty. Except for a few times at the very beginning, it's been only John handing Paul's tiny self and he's been very careful and delicate with his new form. 

"I can- I can still probably just sleep it off. Ahme said it was temporary," Paul pleaded the best he could but he knew that once John is determined little can sway him from his intentions. 

"Ahme said many things. I'd just- I'd hate it is anything were to happen to you," he rubbed a finger over Paul's barely hairy torso, watching the skin shiver under his touch. "You're very precious to- well everyone,the band... to me," he trailed his finger lower, over Paul's soft torso and then his soft cock, Paul inhaled sharply, clenching his fists. 

John leaned down and from this close up Paul could see every tiny detail of his friend's space before he was overcome with the guitarist's tongue licking over his whole crotch. Paul stifled a gasp as John could feel the tiny body tremble against his palm.

It must feel incredible, John fantasized, as he continued. Alternating gentle lapping like eating ice cream, and probing flicks with the tip of his tongue as Paul slowly grew hard. Paul moaned as he writhed, his tiny hands clutching desperately at John's fingers, his legs straining to press back against the sensations. 

When John finally pulled away Paul let out an embarrassing yet involuntary, "No John, don't stop-!" Before turning his face away in shame. Of course this only encouraged John even more as he smiled down wickedly before leaving him, that wanker. Paul lie there, sitting up on his elbows trying to look as indignitant as possible rather than lusting for it. 

John merely went to go and fetch something inside of his case. Eppy had insisted that if they left on holis that they were to at least attempt some music writing, so they had booked a hotel with a piano and taken one acoustic and one electric with them. It was from his electric that he took something.

Before Paul could wonder, he was snatched up, letting out an involuntary squeal that had John laughing again. "What's go- ag!" Paul was interrupted by something hard and cold in his mouth. For all that John had clacked it against his teeth, he hadn't actually been harsh about it. With his hands now free he grabbed it to control it, he knew what was being asked of him before he even heard John say "Get it as wet as you can." It was a quarter-inch audio jack and probably the right size for-

Best not to think about that as he did his best to slobber over the thing. Paul stared up at him, he must have looked quite the sight with his jowls stuffed and spit dribbling for John merely said an almost meek, "Very good", as he tugged it out. 

John manoeuvred him down, flat against the desk on his back, and with his legs spread apart, completely exposing his hole. Paul was letting out a continuous stream of pleases and wordless moans but he was pretty sure he wasn't begging for anything but more, even if he would never admit to that. John bend down to lick over him again. This time he took Paul's normally small, now tiny, cock into his mouth and sucked. It felt- Beyond anything he could imagine. John's lips were now so big as to be against his whole length, pillowy and soft. 

"This is gonna be so much," John growled throatily, his mouth sending vibrations against Paul's stomach as the cold tip of the jack was pressed against his rim. Paul squirmed as he could feel it slide in bit by bit, almost teasingly. It felt too big to be stretching him from nothing but too small to be a dildo. 

Paul squirmed as John pressed, pushing the tip in a little, teasingly. When he slid about half of it Paul could feel himself growing full, opening his eyes wide and letting out a broken wail, his hands grasping for non-existent purchase against the smooth desk. God, John was just letting it hang half-in him, lust burned him hotly from the inside out.

John realized with belated delight that watching Paul was painfully arousing. His dick grew hard and pressed against the line of his fly uncomfortably. So he opened up his trousers and pulled out his cock; stroking its length. This was possibly the hottest thing he'd ever seen. But fuck he almost missed the time when they'd been living in Hamburg and had only the sheets to provide privacy from the other boys, and then later when there were only thin hotel walls between them. Fuck, but he hadn't realized how much he missed it until now. 

Paul was struggling again, making abortive little thrusts with his hips, the jack sticking obscenely out of him. John lifted a finger that he laid on the end without pressure so that Paul had something to rock back into. He watched as his tiny friend tried his best to fuck himself back upon it, nearly desperate for more before offering him the sweet relief of providing the thrusting. John took hold of it, rotating it, careful to listen to Paul's sounds of clear pleasure, before pressing it firmly and repetitively to a sensitive spot that had Paul arching back with pleasure as his head and eyes lolled. John stripped his cock to same frantic pace, imagining himself inside of Paul.

"J-John, please!" Paul cried out as he started to get fucked in earnest with the jack. His body was quaking, trembling under John's hand, teetering so close yet so far from coming when John, that arse, stopped. "Fuck, please," he mouthed, blown far past any semblance of control . 

"Oh, is there something you want Paulie?" His obnoxious, ironically not a wanker, of a friend taunted him.

"Bloody hell you tit, please just more."

John smirked down, pleased as punch to have so much control and dominance over his cocky tiny friend. He lowered his head down to suck and lick again at Paul's bobbing cock as he continued to fuck him with the jack. He teased Paul just long enough that they were both at the edge at the same time. Paul didn't last much longer like that, his whole body tensing and shaking as he spilled his almost unnoticeable amount of cum into John's mouth. 

The guitar jack was pulled out of him with a wet plop and placed down on the desk next to him with a meaty thump. John gently picked up Paul and cradled him through the after-tremors of what looked like an extremely powerful orgasm, pressing soft dry kisses all over his body. 

And then- seemingly as quickly as it took for him to shrink, Paul grew back to normal size. He found himself naked in their hotel room, stradling John on the desk chair, careful to avoid the mess John had made of himself. "Ah- so that did work," John said in a smug, lofty tone as he ran his fingers to straighten out Paul's moptop.

"Thanks," Paul mumbled, his voice rather hoarse from all that shouting.

"Perhaps we'll have to do this again," John said slyly, gripping the back of Paul's neck in a way that suggested he wasn't actually asking. 

Paul was more than happy to oblige after having such a grand time of it himself but- he blinked in growing confusion at John. He intertwined their hands together and looked at them. Paul's hand was larger, because rather- "John tell me," Paul said with a devilish smile started to overtake his face, "Did you swallow?"

"Did I- Oh," John froze, shifting about as he craned his head up to look at Paul, and didn't it feel odd to be so short, and quickly shrinking. "That's... interesting," John noted as he grew far too small for his clothes.

"Don't worry, I'm sure something can be done for you. Bodily secretions was it?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> by popular vote, only one person voted but thats not the point, the next chapter will also be with the mclennon ship


	2. Chapter 2

Tiny John wriggled free of his clothing and found himself at the crux between Paul's thigh and waist. He didn't mean to quite so literally fall onto Paul's lap. "I can't-" John panted, all that smoking was doing nothing for him, "Just give me a moment, I can't possibly go again so soon." 

Paul carefully placed John on the desk, "Me neither so I'm going to go and fetch something to clean ourselves with, maybe take a real bath." They had tried with tiny Paul in an empty bowl but the whole thing had been so impractical with how big the soap was and how slippery the bowl. Seeing how it had only been a day and half, he hadn't bothered with more than a rather useless perfunctory wash.

He came back with a hand towelette to gently latter and wash John's body, they aren't teenagers anymore and need more than 15 minutes to recover, but the whole experience is very intimate. Paul could so easily hurt or crush John under his hand, it wouldn't be difficult and could even easily happen accidentally, yet John trusts him of course and so allows it. John was right this much power is intoxicating and getting to Paul. He can't get physically hard again but that doesn't stop the mental arousal from coursing through him. He leaves a mostly clean John on the desk to go take a soak. 

John wraps himself in Paul's handkerchief and has nothing to do but wait. Paul was right, this was unpleasant. He quickly grows bored, not to mention the rather terrible feeling of being so powerless. He can't smoke a cigarette, can't go for a walkabout, can't fiddle with his guitar, can't play cards, can't even read a book. Nothing, nothing but to wait for Paul.

Well, except for one thing. The guitar jack looks rather intimidating now that he's so tiny, he holds up a hand next to it, it's practically the size of two or three fingers but a little longer. That seems like rather a lot. John decides to go without as he settles himself on Paul's makeshift bed made from one, clean obviously, sock. He takes a calming breath and wishes he could light up, a joint would make this odd restlessness better if not leave him all together. 

He begins by stroking himself, not his dick, just generally, down his chest and up his thighs, awakening his nerves under his firm touch. He flicks his way up his ribs and grabs at his pecs, thumbing over his nipples before heading back down south. He has very little body hair, especially compare to Paul's but he does have the lightest auburn happy trail that he rakes his fingers over, scratching against the grain. 

He still can't get hard yet but it still feels good, sensual. The skin at his groin is sensitive under his calloused fingertips. And that's how he's found, naked, legs apart, touching himself as he slowly hardens, next to the still moist and subjectively shaped jack. 

Paul doesn't hesitate for a moment, he's still naked, dripping wet from his bath and also getting hard. Seeing John clearly wanting it, pleading for some real sensation is all the permission he needs to use him for his wicked ends. He plops down a towel on the chair before straddling it. As hot as what John did to Paul with that wicked little guitar jack, Paul has gotten another idea and when else are they going to have a chance to try it out. Really this is all John's fault. 

The bassist then picks up the tiny man gently around the torso, under his armpits and lowering him against his own cock. John does his best to cling on, wrapping his limbs around Paul's cock like some kind of sloth, until Paul brings his thighs together pushing his bullocks up and under John. Then a hand comes against his back as Paul's fingers enclosed the two and starts to wank. John is the only thing between Paul's palm and his cock and so it is his entire body that is providing the friction as he jerks off. John's tiny cock is helplessly caught up in all of it, rubbing against Paul's dick which seems enormous like this. 

It is a wetter experience than John could have anticipated. John and Paul are still moist from getting washed up and the precum escaping from Paul's cock seems so copious in this size, as the slide eases. It smears against John and sticks to his head, certain to give him the wildest sex hair he's ever had. It isn't enough for Paul though who lifts up John to slather him with his tongue before returning him to his cock.

John is left rather dazed after feeling that giant, tactile muscle running along his length. It had felt- Incredible, not just in how good it felt but also how new and different than anything he'd experienced before. Paul must be getting close because he starts to pump faster, to which John can do nothing but moan against the cock, clinging tighter as his body is used as little more than a fleshlight. 

Paul keeps looking down at him, God the sight must be hot. John completely powerless but to take it and be used however he saw fit. There was very little he could do except- John sticks his tongue out to have Paul's movement's drag it up and down the shaft. As relatively tiny as his tongue was Paul still felt it, "Damn it John, hasn't your mouth gotten you into enough trouble for one day?" 

But John just smirks because even if he were to swallow Paul's cum, the bassist was the big sized one now so it doesn't matter. When he loses his footing he treads on Paul's sack but rather than pain, the bassist moans as John feels it tense, God he must be so near. Paul just groans, a low, dirty sound as his wrist speed up even more. It was too fast for John to do anything else than try not to flop about like a rag doll, slipping against the precum and spit, as he tries his best to hold on. 

Paul throws his head back, grunting as he pursues the peak of his pleasure. Paul comes with a shout, tightening his grip. John can barely breath as he watches the cum splatter on Paul's torso and splash back onto him. He grows lightheaded from the tight grip and this is what pushes him over the edge, practically shrieking as Paul pulls him off his shrinking now-soft dick. 

Quickly John starts to return to his normal size in Paul's grip. First he stands on Paul's thighs before being big enough to straddle them and finally being able to touch the floor on either side of the chair. Good God, that must have been one of the most intense orgasms of his life. He can do little more than just stay there, panting like a dog in the sun. Paul looks at him clearly deeply amused by John's mussed hair which he begins to tease him for when their band members enter- without knocking!

"We got them no problem but they didn't have quiet -hehe- have your size Paulie, so we just got you a 46 which the clerk said was equilva-" George stops his helpful explanation to be traumatized by the sight in front of him. He just closes his eyes and tries his best to cope, while Ringo trailing at his heels turns to stare at the wall, flushing and looking rather uncomfortable. "Okay I know why Paul might be naked but really John? First priority once he's returned to form?"

"Well you see-" Paul starts diplomatically only to be interrupted by Lennon. 

"Actually that's how we got Paul back to size," he waits until George is looking at his face to smirk out a, "Bodily secretions." 

George is torn between being horrifying and- well something else. Ringo just nods thoughtfully, "Makes sense." The drummer clenches his right hand, "Do you think Ahme has any more of that stuff?" 

It's unclear if he's thinking of the ring still stuck on his finger or another kind of frustration, but regardless John smiles back with a, "I sure hope so."


End file.
